The reason people bury things is simple: to
document their life and times. This is in stark contrast to dogs, squirrels, and Jimmy
Hoffas murderer who all bury things in the hopes they wont be found by
others.

As humans, we have a
natural urge to want to make our mark and be remembered in future generations. This is why
the Pharaohs built the pyramids, Shah Jehan built the Taj Mahal, and Kevin Costner made
Waterworld and the Postman. Okay, so some people have a better understanding of what will
stand the test of time than others. Now, with the dawning of thelets all say
this together!new millennium, people are trying to preserve the present as a gift to
the future by stashing things in time capsules like theres no tomorrow. Actually, if
there was no tomorrow there wouldnt be a need to do this in the first place, but
thats another story.

Since we all firmly believe in the
Official Slogan of the 90s, "If its worth doing, its worth
overdoing", weve gone a little nuts with this. Like to the tune of 10,000 time
capsules which have been buried in the past year. To put that in perspective, thats
5,000 for every man, woman, and child that gives a rats ass.

The reason people bury things is simple: to document their
life and times. This is in stark contrast to dogs, squirrels, and Jimmy Hoffas
murderer who all bury things in the hopes they wont be found by others. And
what are people burying? Among other things theyve filled capsules with parking
tickets, Furbies, a six-pack of Budweiser, a Glock 9mm automatic (complete with bullets),
the script to Eddie Murphys "Holy Man", and a pair of Super Bowl tickets.
Now what are the people who dig these up years from now supposed to think about our lives,
that were drunk outlaws with insipid mechanical pets who watch bad movies and pay
big bucks to see grown men get concussions? I dont know about you, but I really
dont think this is the way I want my life to be remembered.

A lot of people are listing their capsules at the web site. The problem is this relies on
the site not only existing years from now, but working, something anyone who tried to shop
online this past Christmas knows is about as likely as there being a Richard Simmons, Jr.

Of course, we may
not actually have to worry about this since most time capsules are never seen again. In
Corona, California theyve buried 17 of them since 1930 and they havent found a
single one of them. In 1976 President Gerald Ford helped bury 22 million signatures that
were collected by the Bicentennial Wagon Train and theyre nowhere to be found. It
turns out someone stole the capsule. And in 1983 20th Century Fox buried a container
filled with M*A*S*H memorabilia, only to have the site paved over. Or possibly have a
hotel built on top of it. Theyre not sure.

But the days
of lost historical mementos may be over thanks to the International Time Capsule Society
(motto: "Take one and call me in the morning"). Theyve set up an online
registry so future generations will know exactly where and when to dig up each capsule.
This is a great idea and has a lot of people listing their capsules at the site. The only
problem is it relies on the Societys website not only existing years from now, but
working, something anyone who tried to shop online this past Christmas knows is about as
likely as there being a Richard Simmons, Jr.

Despite their long-term image, most time capsules are only
meant to sit for 20 or 30 years before being unearthed, though there are some with a much
longer shelf life. The one Westinghouse buried at the New York Worlds Fair in 1938
is supposed to remain sealed until the year 5,001. Of course, "supposed to" is
the key phrase since it means surviving Y3K, Y4K, and Y5K. Not the capsule, Im sure
it will be fine. Its us surviving the media onslaughts that worries me.

And please, for gods sake, bury that infernal Kenny G "Auld Lang Syne'"
piece of crap and do it now so I dont have to hear it for the 0.0027 seconds it
takes me to slam the OFF button on the radio.

But the Mother of
all Time Capsules may be the one at Oglethorpe University in Atlanta (motto: "With a
name like ours, it has to be good") which is maintained by the International Time
Capsule Society. This 20-foot long "Crypt of Civilization" was hermetically
sealed in 1940 and isnt scheduled to be opened until 8113, which will make it a
whopping 6173 years old. Thats a long time. Hell, thats almost the estimated
half-life of a package of Hostess Snowballs.

To those of you
who are still thinking abut burying time capsules, I say do it. Gather up things around
the house, throw them in a container, and bury it in the backyard under lots of dirt. I
figure if nothing else it will help us get rid of a lot of things that have been driving
us crazy. I say bury the Beanie Babies, every ugly supposedly collectable one of them.
Bury Pamela Anderson Lees breasts. Bury the Starr Report. Toss Furbies, Pokémon,
those obnoxious dot-com TV ads, and people who talk on their cell phones in restaurants
and movie theaters in a great big time capsule and bury it deep at the Earths core.
And please, for gods sake, bury that infernal Kenny G "Auld Lang Syne'"
piece of crap and do it now so I dont have to hear it for the 0.0027 seconds it
takes me to slam the OFF button on the radio.

Do it now! And do notI repeat, do not!list it at
the International Time Capsule Societys website. Trust me, we dont want to
wish that stuff on anyone anytime anywhere.